


Oblivion Is Calling out Your Name

by Terri Botta (Isilwath)



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Childe/Sire Bond(s), F/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilwath/pseuds/Terri%20Botta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 4x09. Elena goes drinking at the Grill. Stefan and Caroline find her there. Drama and a few epiphanies ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Older fic, written in 2013. The title is derived from the Bastille song played at the end of Episode 9.

Oblivion is Calling Out Your Name

By Terri Botta

Summary: Post 4x09. Elena goes drinking at the Grill. Stefan and Caroline find her there. Drama and a few epiphanies ensue.

Disclaimer: All rights belong to _The Vampire Diaries_ belong to Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, L.J. Smith and the CW. I just take them out and play with them. No money, no infringement intended, yadda yadda yadda. I’m poor so don’t sue. 

A/N: The title is derived from the Bastille song played at the end of Episode 9.

* * *

 

 

Elena Gilbert passed through the doors of the Mystic Grill, and it felt like she was coming home. She’d been sitting alone in her empty house, moping and miserable, for two days since Damon had “set her free” and told her to go home. She’d had no choice but to obey him because he had invoked the sire bond, but it took her a while to figure out that he hadn’t told her she had to **_stay_** there.

He hadn’t told her a lot of things, things she’d realized that Damon was supposed to tell her. Things like “Don’t love me anymore. Don’t think about me anymore. Live your life without me.” Those words had never left his mouth. Probably because he knew that wasn’t what either of them wanted, and because telling her that was taking her choices away from her as surely as the sire bond was supposedly doing.

She had serious doubts about that.

Tyler had told her that the sire bond affected how she acted, not how she felt. Damon had told her the witch he and Stefan had gone to see had said sire bonds only happen when the person turned had real feelings for the vampire **_before_** the change. Stefan had – reluctantly – confirmed it when she’d pressed him on the subject.

So, yes, she was sire bound to Damon. There was no doubt about it. But what did it mean? Tyler only had to obey direct commands from Klaus, and she could think of a number of times when she had defied Damon, so it looked like the whole “obey me” thing worked the same way for her and Damon. In order for her to be forced to do what he said, the sire bond had to be invoked, either accidentally or deliberately. The rest of the time, the sire bond supposedly would make her want to make Damon happy. She failed to see what was wrong with that or how it differed from any other relationship. Wasn’t it normal to want to make your lover happy?

She smiled as she headed for the bar. Her lover. Damon wasn’t her boyfriend. He was her lover. Her relationship with him was in a whole different league than the one she’d had with Stefan, and she was still working out the dynamics between them.

Which is what she had been doing for the past two days. She’d been skipping school, staying home, reading her older diaries for entries about Damon, and sorting through her feelings. She wanted to be ready when she faced him again, ready with arguments and proof to convince him that what they had was real, and that her feelings were genuine. She was almost there. When she was ready, she knew she would have to go back to the lake house to face him because he wasn’t answering her calls. She was fairly certain she’d be able to do that despite his command for her to go home because he hadn’t forbidden her from returning.

She was also avoiding Caroline and Stefan after the debacle of returning to the boarding house after Damon sent her away, only to find a guilty, but smug, Caroline and an enraged Stefan who immediately laid into her (and Damon by proxy) for betraying him by sleeping with his brother.

“We need to talk about that,” she’d said, after she got over her initial shock of another one of her secrets being given away by someone whom she thought she could trust.

“What is there to talk about?” Stefan had snarled. “How many times are you going to rip my heart out?”

She didn’t know why his words had incensed her so much, but she’d growled and snarled right back. “Like I ripped out Damon’s heart on the night I died, when I chose to have Matt drive back to you and left him to die alone?”

He’d seemed stunned that she would fight back, and his momentary pause had given her enough time to push past him to go to Damon’s room. He and Caroline had caught up with her as she was packing up the clothes she’d stored there the morning before while Damon was still sleeping. If they had thought to tag team her, they’d been sorely disappointed because she cut them off the moment Caroline had opened her mouth.

“Damon set me free,” she’d said.

“Stefan had a right to know,” Caroline had explained.

“It wasn’t your place to tell him,” she’d answered harshly. “I’m going home.”

She’d slung her bag over her shoulder and stomped out without a backwards glance to either of them. She’d been half expecting them to try to stop her, but they hadn’t. Maybe because they knew she was a hair’s breadth from tearing them both to pieces, and they didn’t want the fight. Whatever the reason, they’d let her leave. She’d gotten into her SUV and drove home.

That had been two days ago, and she was fed up with moping. She’d done nothing but wander around her silent house in her pajamas, eating ice cream (and drinking from blood bags thanks to **_Damon_** ), watching depressing romantic movies, and reading through her diaries. She was miserable, she knew Damon had to be miserable, and she had to get out of the house or she would drive back to the lake to give him what for before she was ready.

The Grill seemed a logical choice since she was avoiding Caroline and Stefan, hence the school-skipping. (And really, with everything that was going on, did high school really even matter? If she wanted to graduate, she could just go back at a later time. She had eternity after all. Stefan had told her he’d graduated from high school dozens of times, and he had the cap tassels to prove it.)

She sidled up to the bar and sat on Damon’s usual stool. The bartender flicked her a curious look, probably because he knew she was underage, and probably because she was in Damon’s spot wearing his leather jacket. It was an older one that she’d found in Damon’s closet, and she’d shoved it into her bag on the night she’d left the boarding house. She’d seen it hanging there next to one of the sweaters that she’d put in the closet earlier, and she’d grabbed it on impulse, needing **_something_** of his to keep with her. It was worn in places, and his scent was fading from the leather from who knows how many years of disuse, but wearing it made her feel close to him.

She caught the bartender’s eye and nodded to him.

“Bourbon,” she ordered, then cast a glance at Ric’s seat. “Make it two.”

When the drinks arrived, she slid “Ric’s” over to its customary place with a sad smile.

Little did she know that a ghostly Ric was there, watching her with concerned eyes. Disembodied and impotent, he’d been unable to communicate with anyone regarding the looming danger, and he’d taken to following Elena and Jeremy around in hopes of getting through to one of them.

He should have been able to talk to Jeremy, but for some reason the boy couldn’t hear him. Bonnie Bennett’s grandmother, Sheila, was there on the Other Side with him, trying to contact her granddaughter, but both of them were being blocked. Sheila said it was the warlock who was snaring both Jeremy and Bonnie in his web, and that was why Jeremy couldn’t see him. She was working on it, but he kept trying to make his presence known with little to no success.

Eyesight in the afterlife was 20/20, 360-degrees actually, and it sucked. Ric was well aware of what was going on between Elena and Damon. He’d been watching their relationship unfold from the moment Elena had awakened as a vampire, and at first he railed against it, but then he saw how Damon treated her, how he had tried to help her and how he had been there for her, accepting her even when she continually rejected him. He also saw how manipulative and dishonest Stefan was being, how he did some seriously questionable things, and then tried to justify them by saying he was doing it for Elena.

When he’d seen Stefan sabotage the budding relationship between Damon and Elena with the sire bond theory, he’d known Stefan wasn’t doing it for Elena. He was doing it because he couldn’t stand the thought of her choosing his brother over him. Yes, they should have been told about the sire bond, but how Stefan and Caroline had gone about it had been unnecessarily judgmental and cruel.

It wouldn’t matter though. Elena and Damon would find their way back to each other. He’d been watching the both of them over the past two days, and he’d seen the determination on Elena’s face to win back her place in Damon’s life. He’d seen Damon’s silent tears and longing when he thought he was alone, and Ric knew he’d take Elena back in a heartbeat if he thought her feelings for him were real.

The fact that he was questioning Elena’s feelings was a problem, and Ric felt that Elena would probably have to chain Damon to the bed and sit on him to make him listen to her, but if he knew either of them at all, they’d work it out. They always did. Somehow, despite everything that had tried to tear them apart, Damon and Elena always found a way to reconnect with each other.

But the sire bond business, and the relationship drama, was going to have to take a back seat to the brewing crisis that was Atticus Shane. Ric was desperate to get through to Elena and Jeremy to warn them of the grave danger they were in, and that took priority over everything else. He sat in “his” seat, unable to do anything but watch helplessly from the sidelines, and waited for any chance at all to make himself heard. He wanted the bourbon so badly, he could almost taste it, and he smiled wistfully as he watched Elena lift her glass to her lips.

Elena grimaced as the whiskey burned her throat. The stuff they served at the Grill was a pale comparison to the smooth top quality alcohol Damon kept in his personal stash, but somehow ordering a pina colada while wearing Damon’s leather jacket just seemed wrong.

She looked around. There was a sparse lunch crowd, but they were heading out. Soon it would be only her and the bartender, and maybe a cook in the back.

_‘Damon should be here,’_ she thought ruefully. _‘This place seems empty without him.’_

Every place seemed empty without him. She hadn’t realized how much a part of her life he had become until he’d taken himself out of it. Even when they weren’t together, she’d always been able to call him, and he’d usually answer or at least he had before this whole “sire bond” mess. Not including the last two days, she couldn’t remember a day when she hadn’t spoken to him at **_least_** once, usually more. He was her go-to guy for just about everything, and had been since last summer when Stefan was off with Klaus. She’d called him more than she’d called Ric, and she’d leaned on him when she was having down days because she hadn’t wanted to burden Ric or Jeremy when they were hurting as much as she.

Damon had been her rock. That hadn’t changed after Stefan returned, and it certainly hadn’t changed after her transition. In fact, she’d depended on Damon **_more_** after she became a vampire, and that had nothing to do with any stupid sire bond and everything to do with the fact that he was the only one who had accepted her unconditionally. She could trust Damon to be honest with her, even if she didn’t like what he’d had to say, and she knew that he would do anything she asked of him. To now have no contact with him at all… it wasn’t right. She missed her friend. She missed the man she knew she could trust and depend on. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Caroline that Damon had always been there for her. And it hadn’t been because he’d hoped she’d sleep with him.

Damon loved her, and he’d do anything for her. She knew that – she’d been witness to it countless times. Damon accepted her. Damon loved her just the way she was, and he didn’t think she was wrong or different. In his eyes, she didn’t need to be fixed because she wasn’t broken. When she was with him, she could just be herself and not worry about hurting him or shocking him or offending him. With Damon, she could be honest, and she missed that. She needed that, and to be deprived of his guidance and support now with everything that was going on? It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, and she was going to fix it even if she had to have someone vervain Damon and lock him in a cell to make him listen. She’d do it herself, but she doubted the sire bond would allow her to hurt him.

_‘Maybe I could make it a test to see how deep it affects me. If I didn’t really want to hurt him, and was only doing it because I thought it would help, maybe I could get away with it,’_ she wondered.

She sighed and finished the bourbon, motioning for another even though Ric’s was still there untouched. She looked at it and felt the pang of loss again. She needed Ric. Ric would help her get through to Damon. He had been Damon’s only friend, and Damon still mourned him. She knew that now. She understood.

“You’d help me knock him out, then you’d help me shove him in a trunk and take him out of town. That’s what we need, isn’t it? We need to be away from everyone to sort this mess out between us, without the interference of our so called friends and loved ones,” she said to the empty seat.

“Are you talking to me?” the bartender asked as he brought her another drink. She thought his name was Brad or Bob or maybe it was Bruce. She didn’t remember.

“No, just to myself.”

On their own, they could have worked it out, figured out a way for him not to force her obedience. If all it took was for him not to give her direct commands, they could have dealt with that. As for the “happy” part, making him happy made her happy, and she’d been happier with him than she’d been in a long time. And it wasn’t just the sex – although that had been very, very, **_very_** good. The best, actually, though she didn’t want Stefan to know how much better his brother was in bed. She had a feeling he knew anyway. It had been the bonding, the laughter, the natural way they fit together without angst or concern about hurting each other’s feelings.

Left alone, they would have found their equilibrium, but no, her best friend had to interfere and be a blabbermouth, and her lover’s brother had to prey on all of Damon’s insecurities to make him question her feelings. Then Stefan had the nerve to force Damon to promise to do “the right thing by her.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? And Damon also said he had to do the right thing by his brother. Well, what about the right thing for Damon? As usual, no one cared a whit about how Damon was hurting. Stefan had even been self-centered enough to make what was happening all about him and how much pain he was suffering. Really? And Damon was supposed to be the “selfish” one? Pot, meet kettle.

She was working herself into a righteous snit when the objects of her ire walked through the door and headed her way. Both Caroline and Stefan wore twin set jaws and determined looks as they hurried over, and she knew she wasn’t going to like anything either of them had to say. But that was okay because she was spoiling for a fight.

“There you are! I told Stefan we’d find you here,” Caroline said in a high, exasperated voice as she swung around to Elena’s right side.

She shrugged and took a sip of her drink, ignoring her friend’s disapproving look.

“Elena,” Stefan began, moving to sit on the stool beside her. She cut him off.

“That seat’s taken,” she stated in a stern voice that said she wasn’t going to tolerate anyone taking Ric’s spot any more than Damon would.

Oddly, she felt a cold chill touch her left shoulder as Stefan cast her a pained look, but remained standing.

“Elena you haven’t been to school in two days,” Stefan told her, as if she didn’t know.

“My mom’s gonna have to send the truancy officer after you if you keep this up,” Caroline added.

“Seriously?” she replied, cocking her eyebrow the way Damon did. She saw Caroline’s eyes widen, then her mouth turned down into deep frown.

“Elena,” Stefan tried, his face conciliatory, but Elena could see the lies swimming in his eyes.

“I have all the time in the world to graduate from high school. I’m immortal, remember?” she answered.

“This is ridiculous, Elena! You can’t skip school to go sit on a bar stool and drink bourbon while wearing Damon’s clothes!” Caroline snapped.

“Why not?” she countered. “It’s my choice, isn’t it? He set me free, right? He did what he promised he’d do regardless of how I felt about it, but the bottom line is, supposedly, I’m my own again.” She took another drink, leaning into the coldness on her left side and imagining Ric was there with her, giving her support. “Well, this is how I am choosing to spend my afternoon. You both should be happy.”

She saw Caroline take a deep breath, and she knew her friend was preparing to make a preplanned speech that would just explain everything in neat, little terms that Caroline would understand.

“Look. You were sired to Damon, and you were all wrapped up in those feelings. Now that he’s set you free, it’s understandable that you’d still be a little confused…”

“I’m not confused. I’m not confused at all. In fact, I’m the most clear-headed I’ve been in weeks,” she argued.

“I’m sure how you’re feeling will fade soon enough and you’ll…”

“I’ll what? Stop feeling things for him? Stop loving him? Stop missing him?”

“Your feelings will lessen. They’ll go back to the way they were before… before you turned,” Stefan explained.

She gave him a look that called him on his bullshit, and he had the decency to look chagrined.

“Really? You really believe that? I’ll bet you even think I’ll come back to you. That I’ll decide that I didn’t really love Damon at all, that you’re my soul mate and epic love, and I was – obviously – under the influence of the big, bad sire bond when we broke up.”

She looked at him, and his face said it all. He did believe that. He wasn’t feeling the least bit sorry that both she and Damon were hurting and miserable. The only thing worrying him was the fact that she hadn’t come sniveling back to him yet. Somehow, that made her angrier than she already was, and she nearly broke the glass in her hand. It was only the spreading of the cold down her left arm – as if someone was stroking her bicep – that made her ease her grip.

“You **_do_** believe that,” she said with a gasp. “You actually believe that I’ll come crawling back to you as soon as I’m “really” free of Damon.” She lifted her hands to put the really in air quotes.

“You have to admit, Elena, it is a bit out of character for you,” Caroline pointed out in an I-know-better-than-you voice.

This was going to be good. “What’s out of character for me?”

“You know… going from “I choose you, Stefan, you’re the only one keeping me together” to breaking up with him and shacking up with his brother.”

“News flash. Stefan broke up with me, and this thing between Damon and me has been brewing since before I was turned. I know it. I went back and re-read all my diary entries. You know it, too, Caroline. I told you about Denver. I told you about how I kissed Damon. I can’t believe either of you are doing this. Now I know why Damon drinks so much. It’s the only way to deal with the stupidity,” she growled, downing her drink even though guzzling it made her eyes water.

“See? We have to do something. She’s even starting to **_sound_** like him!” Caroline complained to Stefan.

“Maybe because he’s the only one who ever makes any sense!” she snapped, slamming her glass down on the bar.

“Stefan,” Caroline said, just on the edge of whining.

“Elena,” Stefan began in a voice that was meant to sound sympathetic, but she recognized the touch of cruel excitement in it. He was going to tell her something that he thought would change her mind, something that he thought would turn her against Damon. “There are things you don’t know about what happened in New Orleans…”

“Damon told me everything that happened in New Orleans,” she stated firmly.

The glint of cruel anticipation grew in Stefan’s eyes, and Elena realized that Stefan was enjoying this; he was reveling in the chance to tear down his brother. It was so odd because she had always been told that it was Damon who was cruel, but now seeing Stefan, and going back to all the times when Stefan had bad mouthed Damon, she could see that it wasn’t true.

“Did he tell you he killed twelve innocent people because the witch he went to told him it would break his sire bond to Charlotte?” he asked, a hint of gloating in his voice.

She drew her mouth into a thin line and glared at him. Damon **_had_** told her about the twelve people he had killed, but he’d also implied that they hadn’t been all that innocent. He hadn’t gone into complete detail, because he knew that, even though she’d been willing to listen to him, she didn’t approve of his actions, but the implication was that he had chosen thieves and cutthroats.

“Yes, he did. He also told me that the witch was playing him, that there was no spell to break the sire bond,” she answered with conviction, throwing his smug look back in his face.

She was glad to see the surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t thought Damon would tell her that, and the fact that she knew threw him off. She saw him rally, though, his eyes narrowing, and she wanted to get up and leave, but the cold moved back to her shoulder, as if someone had placed a cautionary hand there.

“Hold, Elena. Stay and listen. You might hear something really important,” Ric said, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. It was taking nearly all his energy to get her to feel his touch, but he had to communicate with her. Stefan was about to talk about New Orleans and the witch. She had to hear it because it might help her draw the parallels he desperately needed for he to make. They had to know about Shane, and the horrible things he had been doing.

Stefan cast a glance at Caroline then at one of the empty booths nearby. “Can we sit down over there? We really need to talk.”

Elena looked over at the booths and shrugged. “Sure, but it’s not going to make any difference.”

She stood and let them take her over to one of the booths in the middle of the row. Stefan sat across from her, and Caroline boxed her in. Their positions, and the choice of a booth that was harder to get out of, were not lost on her. They thought to trap her. If they believed they could keep her there against her will, they were in for a surprise, because both Ric and Damon (and Stefan himself) had been training her, and she could already map out at least four ways she could escape. Unless they had vervain, which she wouldn’t put past them to try, thinking she just needed to be locked up until she “came to her senses.” Now she was very glad that she had worn Damon’s leather jacket. It was thick and would offer her some protection if they tried to stab her with a vervain dart.

“Smart girl,” Ric said, following them and taking a seat in the booth behind Elena. “You recognize the threat. You can’t trust them. It’s a shame, but it’s true.”

“Okay, so talk,” Elena said, giving them both her best version of Damon’s “I’m not impressed” look.

“So, Damon did tell you about Charlotte and how she was sire bound to him,” Stefan pressed, the glint back in his eyes.

“Yes. He told me she was crazy about him as a human, and even more crazy after she was turned. He went to the witch who told him about the spell to break the sire bond. He killed twelve people like she said he should, then he left her.”

“Did he tell you that he told her to count every brick in New Orleans, and she did?” Stefan asked.

“Yes.” She could admit to herself that she wasn’t happy about that, but it was all so **_Damon_** , and it was between them, and she wasn’t about to let Stefan know that she was bothered by it.

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

She steeled her face and stared him down. “No.”

“Ugh! Elena! He told her to count every brick in the city, and she **_did!_** He killed **_twelve_** innocent people!” Caroline cried.

“That was sixty years ago,” she countered. “A few days ago, Stefan helped Klaus turn my brother into a Hunter by goading him into killing one of Klaus’s hybrids, then he turned some random guy into a vampire just so my brother could kill him. Forgive me if I care less about something Damon did decades before I was born, and more about what you two have been doing in the last week.”

“We didn’t **_kill twelve innocent people!_** ” Caroline hissed.

Ric reached over the back of the booth and touched Elena on the shoulder. This could be it. She had to feel him.

The cold on her shoulder was back, and it made all hair on her neck stand up. Somehow she knew it was a message, and she had to pay attention. Stefan reached across the table, but she didn’t take his hand.

“Elena, those twelve people… they were human sacrifices Damon helped her make. The magic she was using was blood magic. Her daughter said witches don’t even call what her mother did magic. They call it ‘expression’…”

She gasped and the cold spread from her shoulder, all the way up her neck and down to the middle of her back.

“What did you just say?” she questioned hoarsely, casting a frightened glance at Caroline and glad to see the shock on her face as well.

“Yeah, what did you just say?” Caroline echoed.

Stefan looked nonplussed, but shook his head. “The witch’s daughter. She said her mother practiced expression…”

“Expression. And you’re certain she said it was called **_expression_** ,” Caroline stated.

Elena nodded, wanting the answer as well, but her mind was already leaping ahead. The cold was spreading further, and she knew what it meant, it meant she was on the verge of figuring out something very, very important.

“Yes. She called it expression,” Stefan confirmed.

“Stefan… Bonnie told us that the type of magic Professor Shane is teaching her is called expression,” Caroline said worriedly.

“And Damon told me he thought Professor Shane had something to do with Pastor Young blowing up the Founders. Twelve people died there,” Elena breathed. The lights were coming on in her mind, but the cold was receding.

“And Klaus killed twelve of his hybrids,” Caroline added.

“He did?” Elena blurted. “When did he do that?”

“Three days ago, on the night Tyler was supposed to bring Klaus down. Hayley betrayed him. Tyler told me that she made a deal with someone to help her find her family, and you would’ve known that if you hadn’t been all Miss Mopey and Avoidy for the last two days,” Caroline snarked back, but Elena could see the fear in her friend’s eyes. Stefan was looking a little pained, too. “Stefan, Tyler told me Hayley said Klaus was needed for the sacrifice, and that there had to be twelve…”

Elena went cold again, fixating on the number. There was something there, just out of reach. Twelve hybrids. Pastor Young and eleven members of the Founding Families. Twelve not-so-innocent humans…

“Yes, Elena! Yes! Put it together. C’mon, you’re smart enough to figure this out. C’mon, Elena,” Ric pleaded.

Elena gasped and sat up straight.

“Give me your phone,” she demanded of Stefan.

“Why?” Stefan asked, hesitating.

“Because Damon won’t answer my calls, but he might pick up a call from you.”

“Elena, I don’t think now is the time…” Caroline said, but she stopped when Elena glared at her.

“Professor Shane practices expression. Hayley said that Klaus was needed for a sacrifice. Twenty-four people are dead. The last place Shane was seen was at the lake house with both of our brothers. **_Now give me your phone!_** ” Elena commanded.

Stefan didn’t argue as he handed over his phone. Elena grabbed it and pressed the speed-dial for Damon’s number.

_‘Please, please, please, please answer.’_

“I did what you told me to do and sent her away. The least you can do is leave me alone, and not call me to gloat,” Damon’s voice said.

Elena let out the breath she was holding and shoved aside the twinge she felt at hearing his acidic comment, meant to hide the pain he was in.

“Damon,” she said, his name a prayer and a plea on her lips.

There was a brief pause, then a sigh. “Elena…”

“Please don’t hang up. It’s really, really important. Is Professor Shane still there with you and Jeremy? Just answer yes or no.”

There was another pause, and she could just imagine the crease forming between his eyebrows as he tried to figure out what she was doing. The image made her smile, and the sound of his voice, even under the circumstances, filled her with happiness. Sire bond? Maybe, but she was beyond caring. He and her brother might be alone with a mass murderer, and that trumped everything else.

“Yessss,” Damon answered carefully.

“Are he and Jeremy within earshot?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She swallowed the fear that lodged in her throat and pressed on. “Don’t let him know I’m calling about him. Make him think I’m calling to try to convince you to let me come back.”

“Elena, we’ve been through this. You need to stay away from me. That’s what would make me happy,” Damon said.

_‘Bullshit,’_ she thought, but didn’t voice it. “Listen to me. The witch in New Orleans who told you she could break your sire bond to Charlotte, she made you kill twelve people, right?”

“Elena, please, you’re making this so much harder than it needs to be.”

_‘I’ll take that as a yes.’_ “And when you and Stefan found her daughter, she told you there was no spell, and that her mother practiced a human sacrifice magic called expression.”

“I can’t let you come back. I’m sorry. This isn’t any easier for me than it is for you, but I have to do right by you.”

_‘Another yes.’_ “Damon, Bonnie told us the magic Professor Shane is teaching her is called expression. You think he had something to do with Pastor Young killing the Founders, and I just found out that Klaus killed twelve of his hybrids. Hayley betrayed Tyler. She told him twelve were needed for a sacrifice, and Klaus had to do it.”

She stopped because she knew she didn’t have to continue. Damon would put the pieces together the same as she had without any help from her. He was quiet for a long moment, but she could hear him breathing.

“Elena, please don’t do this to me,” he finally said, but his voice was stressed and had an edge to it that told her that he’d figured it out.

Unfortunately, that edge sounded too much like how his voice got whenever he was planning to wreak vengeful carnage on an unsuspecting populace, and the last thing they needed was for Damon to go after Shane when they had no idea how powerful the man was or how well he could protect himself. It was entirely possible, and in fact likely, that he had defenses that could incapacitate and even kill a vampire, and she couldn’t let Damon take that kind of chance.

“Damon, please. Please. I know what you’re thinking. Please don’t try to kill him. He just planned the deaths of twenty-four people. We don’t know what he’s capable of. Please, just get Jeremy and get out of there. Please,” she begged, trying to cut him off before he got a head of steam going.

She heard him moving, heard the swish of the door and the clomp of his boots across the grass, then on wood. He’d gone out to the dock, presumably out of hearing range.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Relief flooded through her because he was listening to her and not going off on a “let’s tear the professor’s head off” rampage. She briefly flashed back to Kansas and what he’d said to her in Scary Mary’s house.

_‘What if there was no bump?’_

In that moment, she was immensely proud of him.

“Yes. You have to get Jeremy and get out of there. I’ll meet you back at my house.”

“I’d rather just skewer Professor Shadypants and play with his entrails until he squeals.”

Hearing the disgust and anger in his voice made her smile, but she had to keep him from doing something stupid.

“Please don’t. We don’t know what he can do, and he might be able to give you the witchy migraine. Please, just do what you said you’d do and protect my brother. Get him and get him out of there,” she said, not above using his words against him. He’d made a promise, and she’d make him keep it.

“Elena…”

“Damon, you promised.”

“Elena… okay.”

There was defeat in his voice, but all she felt was triumph. It was tempered with fear, though. Jeremy and Damon were still alone with Shane, whatever he was, and they still had to get away from the lake house without him figuring out they were on to him. Anything could happen between now and then. Damon could try to get Jeremy only to find that her brother wouldn’t go or that they were somehow trapped at the house by a barrier spell.

All the possible ways things could go wrong made her heart pound and her breath catch on a sob. The cold spot on her back stroked back and forth, and she had another revelation.

_‘Ric. Ric is here with me.’_

His presence gave her strength even as she fought back tears.

“Thank you,” she said to both Damon and Ric.

“Elena, I’ll do what I can, but I don’t know how I’ll get Junior to leave,” Damon told her.

“You’ll come up with something. Pick a fight. Tell him we slept together, then let him try to kill you,” she said, only half serious and ignoring Caroline and Stefan’s uncomfortable looks.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s such a good idea if you want us both back in one piece.”

“He has to find out sometime,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but preferably not when he has access to so many weapons. I found your grandfather’s secret stash. He made Ric’s closet look like an episode of Tool Time.”

She chuckled in spite of her fear, then had a moment of insight as she felt the cold spot move again.

“Ric. Tell him to think of Ric.”

“Why?” Damon asked, and she could hear the grief in his voice.

“Because I think Ric is here, and I remember that Jeremy could see a someone’s ghost if he thought about that person,” she explained.

“Elena, honey, you’re a genius. If this works, I’ll tell Jeremy everything,” Ric promised, winking out to join Jeremy and be there when and if the boy thought of him.

“Ric’s there?” Damon questioned with disbelief mixed with a hint of hope. It nearly broke her heart.

“Yeah. I can’t tell you how I know, but I think… I think I can feel him. Tell Jeremy to think of Ric. If he’s trying to communicate, that should be enough for Jer to be able to see him.”

“Okay. I will. Hopefully Ghost Hunter will put in an appearance and save my ass from being staked by your baby bro.”

She chuckled again, then grew serious. If Ric had been trying to get through but couldn’t, then their situation might be much graver than they thought. If Shane got even a hint that they knew about him, he could kill Damon and take Jeremy, and she’d never see either of them again. The thought scared her to her very soul.

“Damon,” she breathed.

“Elena” he replied, his voice full of love and longing and concern.

Once they got off the phone, she knew that there was a chance that she might never talk to him again. It was a small chance, but a chance, and that possibility filled her with dread.

“Damon…”

“I’ll do it, Elena. I’ll find a way to get Junior Gilbert and bring him back to you safely,” he vowed, sounding tired and resigned.

“I know you will. That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

She paused, choosing her words, even as she began to understand the ramifications of saying them.

“There’s something else. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Elena…”

“I just have to say it once. You just need to hear it.”

Across the table, Stefan was staring at her, but she met his gaze without remorse or regret.

“I love you. I loved you before I turned, but I was too much of a coward to admit it. I let other people tell me how I should feel and what I should do, instead of following my heart, and I am so, so sorry. I hurt you so much. I ripped your heart out so many times, but you never left me, you never gave up on me. I don’t know how you found it in yourself to forgive me after I chose Stefan, and left you to, maybe, die alone, or for all the times I blamed you for having to make the hard choices, or the time I told you that your love for me was a problem. It was never the problem. **_I_** was the problem. Me and my own fears and insecurities.”

She took a deep breath, tearing her eyes away from the shattered look on Stefan’s face as she confessed her love for his brother.

“I’m sorry. And I am so grateful that you kept your promise to never leave me even when I made that promise almost impossible for you to keep. I promise to try to do better if you’ll let me. I know we have the sire bond thing between us, but we can work that out if we do it together. We’ve always been better together than we are apart, and I want to try. I miss you, and I need you. Not because of the sire bond, but because you’re my friend and my lover, and I love you. Please give us a chance.”

She took another breath, hoping he would say something, but there was silence. Stefan was crying, and Caroline was trembling, but she pressed on.

“Please Damon. Do whatever you have to do to keep yourself and Jeremy safe because I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to either of you. I love you both so much, and I am terrified that something will happen, and I’ll never see you again. So please, find a way to get my brother, and come back home to me.”

She was finished, and she felt empty and exhausted, but exhilarated at the same time. She waited for Damon to respond. And waited. And waited.

“Damon?” she finally called. “Damon, are you there?”

There was still no answer, and she started to shake. Had something happened? Had Shane realized what was going on and attacked? She hadn’t heard anything, but that didn’t necessary mean that nothing had happened.

“Damon? Damon, please answer. You’re scaring me. Damon!”

There was a thud, and the sound of running feet approaching, and terror seized her as she gripped Stefan’s phone.

“Damon!”

There was scraping and rasping, then Jeremy’s voice came on the line, out of breath and worried.

“Hello?”

“Jeremy!” she blurted, so happy to hear him and not Shane.

“Elena? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Damon?”

“He’s on his knees with his face in his hands. What’s going on?”

“Where’s Professor Shane?”

“He’s still in the house. He was setting up some new meditation circle or something to help me focus.”

_‘I’ll bet,’_ she thought, but that meant Shane didn’t know they were on to him. Jeremy and Damon had a chance of getting out safely.

She was so giddy with relief that she almost forgot to be afraid.

“Jer, think of Ric. I think he’s trying to contact us.”

“Ric? I haven’t seen him since the night you died.” He sounded flustered and confused, and she didn’t blame him.

“Just think of him, and if he’s there, you should be able to see him,” she said.

“Okay. Oh… Elena, Ric’s here. He says he has a lot to tell us.”

She sniffled and fought back tears, but a few escaped anyway to roll down her cheeks.

“Yeah, I know. You do what he says, and help Damon get up. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” she heard him agree, but he sounded distracted, probably because he was listening to Ric.

Part of her wanted Damon to come back on the line, but another part understood that the rest of their conversation would have to wait. The most important thing right now was for him and Jeremy to get away from Professor Shane safely, and there was no time for them to do any more soul bearing, especially if her confession had brought him to his knees.

Smiling and crying both tears of relief and joy, she hung up the phone and handed it back to Stefan. She’d done it. She’d told Damon she loved him, and he was going to come back to her. Jeremy could see Ric, and they would learn what he knew. They still had to figure out what to do about Shane, and they needed to break the bad news to Bonnie and find out how deeply she had gone into expression. But all of that could be handled once Damon and Jeremy were back safe.

“I’m going home now,” she told Caroline and Stefan, making them come out of whatever thoughts they had lost themselves in.

Stefan was staring blankly ahead, but he looked at her when she nudged him with her foot.

“I’m going home. Damon will get Jeremy and bring him back to my house. We need to figure out what we are going to do. We need to find out how deep Shane has gotten Bonnie into expression, and why he needed twenty-four sacrifices.”

He gave her a nod, and his crushed expression tugged at her heart because she did still care for him even if she wasn’t in love with him anymore, but she wasn’t about to apologize for loving his brother. She wasn’t the least bit sorry about that.

Caroline yielded when she moved to slide out of the booth, and she smiled when she saw her friend sit beside her former boyfriend to offer support. Caroline was good for Stefan. She would comfort him and help him through the messy post-breakup period. In many ways, Caroline had already been fulfilling that role.

“I’ll see you back at my house,” she told them, catching Caroline’s eye and waiting for her friend to acknowledge what she had said.

When she saw Caroline’s little nod, she nodded back, and walked out of the Grill, her head held high and her heart hopeful.


	2. Chapter 2

Elena paced in her room like a restless tigress, all pent-up energy and frustration. Downstairs she could hear Caroline and Stefan talking to Matt. Matt who had showed up, half-panicked, on her porch with news that April Young had awakened Rebekah. Turns out her wonderful ex had daggered the youngest Original because she knew about the cure, and since every relationship should be based on duplicity and dishonesty – with a bit of turning her brother into a Hunter who wanted to kill her on the side – Rebekah had had to be gotten out of the way.   
  
She couldn’t say she was sorry that Stefan’s deceit had been discovered, or that April had awakened Rebekah, but having to handle the most volatile Original outside of Kol wasn’t something she was looking forward to. She half expected the immortal girl to show up there, but so far she hadn’t. It was a small blessing.  
  
When Matt had arrived with the news that Rebekah had found him at school, and that Stefan had been the one to dagger her to keep her from telling anyone about the cure, Elena had found it necessary to go upstairs. Because if she had to look at Stefan for one more second after he’d ranted at her about the sire bond taking her choices away when he’d done the **_same damn thing_** , she was going to do something she’d regret.   
  
She’d face him, and his hypocrisy, after Damon was there. She needed Damon. Once they were reunited, she could face the rest of this insanity, but she was going insane herself with waiting and worrying about him and her brother. Jer had texted nearly two hours ago telling her they were working on a plan to get away from the lake house without Shane figuring out they were on to him, and there had been no word from them since. She was still wearing Damon’s old jacket in a feeble attempt to keep herself calm, but every nightmare scenario of Shane discovering their plan had played in her head at least once, and she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. If she’d still been human, she was sure she would’ve broken out in a nervous sweat long before now. Not to mention that it was Christmas Eve, and she’d been so miserable and caught up in everything that she’d forgotten about it completely until about ninety minutes ago.   
  
At least Stefan and Caroline had the good sense to leave her alone.  
  
She was about to give in and call Damon because she was nearly sick with worry when she heard the telltale sound of the Camaro’s engine coming down the street. She was downstairs and on the porch before she even had the chance to think about it, and she stood, breathless and trembling, as she watched the blue Classic park in front of her house. She was sure her heart was going to stop beating when he and Jeremy got out of the car and began walking up the path. She waited, every nerve in her body firing at the same time and a litany of _“Damon is here. Damon is here. Damonishere”_ playing on repeat in her head, until Damon raised his eyes, and their gazes met.  
  
Without conscious thought, she launched herself at him, hitting him full force on the walkway as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She heard him grunt when she landed on him, and felt him brace himself from the impact even as his arms came up to support her. She buried her face into his neck and squeezed almost tight enough to break bones because he was there, and they were together again. She’d missed him so much, and he smelled and felt **_so good_**. She didn’t care about the damn sire bond. She was never, never, never letting go.   
_  
‘Damon. Damon. Damon. Damondamondamon…’  
_  
Time stopped. The earth tilted on its axis, then realigned, and everything that had been coiled too tightly inside her relaxed as she breathed him in. She didn’t speak. No words were needed. It felt like he was feeling the same way because he was holding her just as tight, and he had his face in her hair.   
  
“Um, guys?” she heard Jeremy say haltingly. “You gonna come inside?”  
  
She didn’t answer. She was still too busy immersing herself in the scent and feel of him. It was Damon who finally spoke, his voice muffled by her hair.  
  
“You wanna get down?” he asked.  
  
“No,” she answered, her voice just as muffled by his skin.  
  
“Okay,” he said, pulling her closer.  
  
“I’m going in, guys. You two join us when you’re ready,” Jeremy told them, and she heard him go up onto the porch and into the house.  
  
“I see you found my old jacket,” Damon said after a few moments of silence.  
  
“You weren’t using it, were you?” she replied.  
  
“No.”  
  
She chuckled and hugged him even tighter. She couldn’t get enough of him. There was only him. She wanted to take him upstairs to her bed, strip him down to his bare skin and crawl into him. She wanted no barriers between them.   
  
The intensity of her need, and the abject **_joy_** at being reunited with him, frightened her until she realized that she’d felt this way when she and Stefan were first going out, before she knew he was a vampire. She’d been so happy, so flush with new love. Every waking moment had been consumed by the need to be with him, and her dreams had been full of his presence as well. In those first few months of her relationship with the younger Salvatore, her world had been Stefan, and nothing had existed outside of the pair of them. Back then his happiness had been her happiness, and she’d wanted nothing more than to see him smile. Everything had been defined by Stefan, and her need to please and make him happy.  
  
Now she recognized how she was feeling. It wasn’t the sire bond. It was new love. Granted, it wasn’t like she and Damon had just met, but their graduation from friends to lovers was brand new. After so many months – years? – of denying what she felt for him, to be able to admit her love and act upon it was liberating. She was finally, **_finally_** , free to express what she’d been stomping down into the tiny corner of her mind for so long.   
  
What she was feeling was normal. Yes, it was heightened by her vampire emotions, but it was not fabricated. It was not **_wrong_**. It was expected and welcome, and a natural part of a new relationship. In a few months, the newness would wear off, and things would calm down. She was sure of it. The razor’s edge need she was feeling would dull to a warm ache, and she wouldn’t be so obsessed with spending every moment of every day in his arms. Then, and only then, could they begin to understand the affects of the sire bond.  
  
She eased up her grip on him and pulled back enough to look at his face. His pupils were dilated, his lips parted, and she could feel him trembling. She smiled and threaded her fingers into his thick hair, holding his head in place as she kissed him. It took him a second to get with the program, but then he was kissing her back, and she was lost in the taste of him, in the **_rightness_** of his lips on hers, and the dueling dance of their tongues.  
  
They kissed until she knew she would have suffocated from lack of oxygen if she’d still been human, then they separated, breathless, exhilarated and panting. She looked at him. His hair was a mess from her fingers, his face was flushed, and his lips were swollen from her kisses. He was such a beautiful disaster. She grinned at him and stroked his hair.  
  
“I love you,” she said.  
  
“Oh God, say that again,” he blurted with a gasp, his eyes hooded.  
  
“I love you. I love you. I love you. Tell me when you want me to stop.”  
  
He must have been worried about influencing her because he closed his eyes the rest of the way and turned his face to the side.  
  
“Never,” he breathed.  
  
She laughed, grabbed his face to turn it back towards her, and kissed him again, and they got lost in each other once more until a loud “Ahem!” broke them out of their bubble. Turning her head, she saw Caroline standing on the porch looking less than pleased by their public display of affection, but if her friend was trying to shame them into feeling guilty it was a lost cause. Then again, they were probably giving the nosy widow in the house across the street an eyeful.  
  
“I see Blondie is still firmly on team Damon is Evil,” Damon commented.  
  
She shrugged. “She and Tyler are on the outs. She’s not getting any so it makes her cranky,” she answered, trying to make light of things with sexual innuendo.  
  
“Well, I hope they work it out soon. Unresolved sexual tension can make you crazy.”  
  
She giggled and loosened her legs, unwrapping them from around his waist. He eased her down to stand on the ground, but not before she’d slid over his crotch and felt his own UST. She pressed against him briefly, and gave him a sultry look.  
  
“For you, too,” she whispered.  
  
He growled low in his throat, and it did amazing things to her body. After two days of nothing but angst and longing, her mind and spirit felt like they’d come through a disaster to the safety of the other side, and now she ached to reaffirm life by joining with her lover.  
  
“Careful. You’re playing with fire,” he warned.  
  
She lifted her chin and ran her hand down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. “Maybe I like getting burned.”  
  
He bent his head down, his lips inches from hers. “Oh, you’ll get burned. Trust me,” he assured her, his voice husky and full of need.  
  
She gasped and reveled in the power she had over him, but then she realized that his attitude towards them had changed. Two days ago, he’d been refusing to kiss her. Now he was practically throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to bed.   
  
“You’ve stopped fighting us,” she said with pleased surprise.  
  
He pulled back and gave her one of his nonchalant shrugs. “Yeah, well, Ric was giving me an earful via Junior Gilbert on the drive back here.”  
  
And just like that, all thoughts of sex and sexual tension drained out of her as she processed what he’d said. She looked at him more closely and saw the telltale signs that he’d been crying, that he was fighting tears even now, and she was filled with the need to comfort him. She gave into it and hugged him like she did on the night Rose died; how she should’ve hugged him after Ric died, but she hadn’t because she’d been too caught up in her own problems and transition into a vampire.   
  
She didn’t think anyone had given much thought to how much Damon was grieving, outside of the occasional comment about his continued habit of keeping Ric’s stool at the Grill unoccupied and buying him a drink. As usual, the one who had felt Ric’s loss the most had been the one left out in the cold. No one had ever comforted Damon but her.   
  
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about Ric. I know that I haven’t been there for you…”  
  
“Stop,” he ordered gently. “I can’t… It was the night you both died. I can’t go there. Not yet.”  
  
She stepped back and looked up at him, her own tears threatening. “I understand. I love you, and I’ll be here when you’re ready.”  
  
He choked a bit and rested his forehead on top of her head. “I don’t deserve you.”  
  
“I know, but you’re stuck with me so you’d better get used to it.”  
  
“Never. I’ll never take you for granted. You’re too precious.”  
  
“So are you,” she confessed, leaning close.  
  
He groaned and moved away. “We’d better get in there before I decide to Hell with all this, drag you to my car, and take you back to my bed where I’ll never let you leave.”  
  
“So do it,” she challenged, make him chuckle.  
  
“Minx.”  
  
“And don’t you forget it.”  
  
**_“AHEM!”_** Caroline interrupted.  
  
“Looks like Blondie is getting ready to stage an intervention,” he said.  
  
“She and Stefan tried that at the Grill. It didn’t work. In fact, I think I did a fair job of telling them both to go fuck themselves.”  
  
“Elena Gilbert, such language!” he gasped with feigned shock.  
  
“What? I think you’re rubbing off on me.”  
  
He gave her one of his signature leers. “I’d rather rub off **_in_** you.”  
  
She felt her body start doing a happy jig, but she squelched it because – as tempting as it sounded – letting him take her back to his bed was a bad idea under the circumstances. Besides, she’d already decided that the next time they made love would be in **_her_** bed.   
  
“You’ll get your chance, Casanova,” she replied, taking his hand as she turned and began leading him towards the porch where Caroline was still waiting and glaring daggers at them.  
  
“Ohhh, bossy. I **_like_** it. You can rub me off on you anytime,” he teased, sauntering beside her.  
  
She smiled to herself. She loved it when he went all “I’m too sexy,” because he really was sex on two legs. She ought to know. She was his lover, after all.  
  
_‘And no one else is.’  
_  
Of that she was certain. Damon might be a “man whore” as Caroline had put it, but when he committed, he was the definition of fidelity. To the best of her knowledge, he hadn’t even cheated on Andie while she was his “fake, compelled girlfriend.” No. Now that they were lovers, he was hers and hers alone, and he would live to make her happy.  
  
_‘He might be my sire, but **I’m** his queen,’_ she thought smugly, sauntering a bit herself.  
  
She gave Caroline a satisfied look as they walked past her into the house, ignoring the blonde’s scowl. She led Damon into the living room where Jeremy, Stefan and Matt were waiting. Jeremy was still standing, Stefan was on the couch and Matt was in the overstuffed chair by the window. The only other open seat was the armchair bordering the den. Seeing the seating dilemma, and cutting it off at the pass, she released Damon’s hand and went for the leather couch in the den. She’d only managed to drag it an inch before Damon was hurrying over.  
  
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Elena!” he cautioned, putting both hands on the sofa. “Hardwood floors.”  
  
She gave him a look that said she had no idea what he was complaining about, but he just rolled his eyes and lifted the sofa up, carrying it into the living room and setting it down catty-corner to the couch.  
  
“See? No scratches in the floor,” he said, waving a hand at the floorboards.  
  
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes and bite the inside of her cheek before she called him Polly Home-maker, which she knew would not go over well. Jeremy, however, was not so considerate of Damon’s feelings.  
  
“Yeah, **_Elena_** , what gives? Don’t you **_know_** how that could have marked up the floor? Do you have **_any_** idea what a **_bitch_** it is to have to sand down and refinish scratches in hardwood?” her brother chided.  
  
“Jeremy!” she cautioned.  
  
“What? You haven’t spent the last two days with Vampire Adrian Monk. I swear to God, Elena, he was scrubbing the bathroom floors with a toothbrush and bitching about the mold in the grout. The cast iron frying pan’s fixed, by the way.”  
  
“The one I burned the potatoes in?” she blurted, allowing herself to become distracted. Years ago, she’d attempted to make breakfast for the family at the Lake House. It had not gone well, and her family’s vintage cast iron frying pan had paid the price.  
  
“Yep. Apparently, kosher salt, baking soda and Barkeeper’s Friend works wonders. My God, how do you put up with him? He’s driving me crazy. Keep him. I don’t give a crap about the damn sire bond. Just keep him, please,” Jeremy begged, then he grew silent for a moment, his eyes unfocused. “Even Ric agrees. It’s better for everyone’s mental health if he just stays with you.”  
  
“I’m right here, you know,” Damon growled.  
  
She looked at him and smiled. Ruffled-Feathers Damon was adorable so long as he didn’t go off on a killing spree. She went to him and took his hand again.  
  
“Thank you for caring about my floors,” she told him, making him snort.  
  
She encouraged him to sit on the leather sofa, and she curled next to him, her arm around his waist. She tried not to gloat when she felt his arm drape over her, but she did nestle her cheek into the crook of his shoulder. He was wearing his leather jacket, and the smell of it mixed with his unique scent was wonderful.  
  
“Now that we’re all here,” Caroline announced in an irritated tone as she sat down next to Stefan on the couch. “It’s obvious that we have a problem, and we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”  
  
It sounded like Caroline was planning to take control of the conversation like she usually did, and Elena had no strong objections to that because Caroline was a master organizer, but there was just something niggling her about the scowl Caroline continued to give her and her general air of disapproval. Stefan looked pained, but she was trying not to look at him.  
  
“You never told me how you got away from Professor Shane,” she interrupted, looking up at Damon.  
  
Something flashed in Damon’s eyes that told her that he knew exactly what she was doing, and she remembered Shane telling her that Damon was very intuitive. She gave him a conspiratorial little smile, and he smirked at her.  
  
“That’s quite the story,” he answered, settling back against the sofa and crossing one ankle over his knee.  
  
“Oh? Did he give you trouble?” she asked worriedly.  
  
Jeremy started laughing so she turned her attention to him.  
  
“What? What is it? What did you do?” she demanded, suddenly afraid that they’d hurt the not-so-good professor.   
  
Jeremy put his hands up in surrender. “Nothing bad! But I wouldn’t put it past him to be searching the woods for us until morning.”  
  
“What happened?” she asked. Since Jer was grinning, it couldn’t have been too bad, and Damon was completely relaxed so…  
  
“He came at me with an axe,” Damon replied.  
  
“It was badass!” Jeremy explained. “Shane came to find out where we’d gone. Damon and I were coming back up from the dock. Ric had just filled me in on what was going on. Damon and I were working on a plan to get out of there when I saw the axe we use to chop wood. I grabbed it and yelled **_‘YOU SLEPT WITH MY SISTER!’_** and took a swing at him.”  
  
“He surprised me, which is hard to do,” Damon said, smirking and giving her brother an appreciative eye.  
  
“So Damon ducks when I swing the axe at him, slaps it out of my hands and slams me against the side of the house. We get into it. We’re fighting. Shane’s trying to calm us both down. I punch him in the face and almost knock him out. Damon plays all Good Cop and goes to help Shane up. I grab the axe again and come at them. Damon vamp speeds off to the woods and I chase after him, screaming **_‘I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!’_** Shane follows us, and we can hear him calling us, but we doubled back around to the house, and… did you know Damon can lift his car? Anyway, we carried it about half a mile before we thought it was safe to get in and start the engine. Then we drove here.”  
  
“Wow. So Shane doesn’t know you guys are gone?” Matt asked.  
  
“Well, he might know by now, if he went back to the house and found the Camaro missing. We’re hoping he thinks I’m still hunting Damon, and Damon took his car to get away from me,” Jeremy replied. “Ric’s gonna see if he can pop over there to do recon, but Shane has some weird ghost blocking thing going on. Ric’s been trying to get through for weeks, but he couldn’t until I actually thought of him and tried to see him.”  
  
“So Ric’s here now?” she questioned, lifting her head to look around, then felt stupid because – duh! – he was a **_ghost_**. A moment later she felt a cold spot on her shoulder, and she knew it was Ric. She squeezed her eyes shut and burrowed back into Damon’s leather jacket, holding him tighter and breathing in his scent. His hand stroked her arm comfortingly, making her smile.  
  
“Uh, yeah, he’s here. He says he wants to talk to you privately, later,” Jeremy confirmed.  
  
She nodded that she understood and pressed her cheek further against Damon’s shoulder. His scent filled her nostrils, and her consciousness sank into him, letting him fill every part of her with his presence.   
  
The conversation continued, but she stayed quiet, listening, even as she thrilled to hear how Damon’s voice sounded when she had her ear pressed to his chest. Jeremy filled them in on what Ric had told him, about the sacrifices and the blood magic Shane practiced. Ric didn’t know much of what Shane was doing. Magic wasn’t his thing, which turned the conversation to Bonnie and Ric’s admission that Sheila was watching over her.  
  
“Grams?” she asked, opening her eyes a bit.  
  
Jeremy nodded. “She hasn’t been able to get through yet, but now that I can see Ric, I might be able to see her, too.”  
  
She made a small sound of acknowledgement and closed her eyes again as the talk turned to possible courses of action. She wasn’t surprised to find out that Damon was firmly on the “Let’s kill Shane” side, but that was shot down because Ric believed the shady professor would be more dangerous dead than alive. Turns out blood magic warlocks could draw Power on the Other Side. He’d be another Esther, able to take over people’s bodies and manipulate the elements, and as Damon put it, “One psycho dead witch with a vendetta is enough, thanks.”  
  
She listened to them go back and forth, offering suggestions and trying to decide what was best. But the truth was they didn’t know anything. They didn’t know what to do with Klaus or Rebekah. They didn’t know how to fight Shane or what he needed twenty-four souls for, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Both Jeremy and Damon believed it had something to do with Silas, which brought up the subject of the cure.   
  
At this point, she was starting to believe that the price of the cure was too high, and she said so, which made Stefan wince and look away.  
  
“I’m not going to lose anyone else. I won’t trade my brother for a chance at humanity, and we don’t even know if that’s what the cure does. Shane just said it was a cure for immortality. He didn’t say it would make anyone human again. And what if he needs twelve more sacrifices? I’m not going to let him kill anyone else,” she argued.  
  
“Technically, he doesn’t kill them. He gets someone else to do it,” Damon corrected. “Apparently Professor Creepy-pants doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.”  
  
“Same difference,” she countered. “They’re still dead. What if he needs twelve vampires for the next sacrifice? He’s already got twelve humans and twelve hybrids. What if vampires are next?”  
  
“Well, that’s easy, we just make sure there are never twelve of us in one place,” Caroline said.  
  
“I didn’t have mine all in one place,” Damon admitted. “Back in 1942 when I killed the twelve I was supposed to kill, I did it all in one night, but they weren’t all gathered together.”  
  
The look Caroline gave Damon was scathing. “And you say that as if those twelve lives didn’t matter at all to you.”  
  
Elena could feel the tension building in him, so she took his hand in hers and squeezed it lightly to offer comfort. This had the potential to be a serious “bump,” and if Damon lashed out, necks would get broken or worse. He seemed to get the message because his arm relaxed. She tried not to smile or gloat at the power she had over him. Here Stefan and Caroline were so worried about how he could control her through the sire bond, but she had the same control over him without one, and she was just learning how to use it.  
  
“I’m just saying he doesn’t need to lure twelve of us to an All-You-Can-Eat Pi Beta Phi buffet. For all we know, he could have been grooming Junior Gilbert as his next sacrificing stooge,” Damon snapped.  
  
“It’s possible,” Jeremy confirmed. “He was setting up something he called a meditation circle. Maybe he was going to use that to get into my head.”  
  
“So we need to make sure you stay away from Shane. Hopefully that will work out better than two others who were supposed to stay away from each other,” Caroline snarked.  
  
“You got something to say, Blondie?” Damon growled, tensing up again.  
  
Elena immediately moved her hand to his chest and applied pressure. He was a lot stronger than her, but she hoped he would respect her wishes.  
  
“Damon, please. Don’t take her bait,” she warned, then looked at Caroline. “Care, enough. You and Stefan are all about my choices. Well, this is my choice. Please respect it.”  
  
“But that’s the thing, Elena! It’s not your choice! It’s the sire bond making you do these things.”  
  
She felt Damon pushing against her palm, not really trying to overpower her, but enough to tell her that he was growing more and more unhappy. She felt a tremor of panic run through her because she didn’t want the evening to end in screaming, tears and blows. Worse, she was afraid Damon would actually start believing Caroline’s BS.  
  
“Damon, it isn’t. It isn’t the sire bond. I had feelings for you before I turned. You know it. I know it.” She cast an accusing glare at Caroline. “Even Caroline knows it because I told her.”  
  
She saw hope flare in Damon’s eyes then die, and she set her jaw because she could already hear the words that were about to come out of his mouth.  
  
“Elena, I…”  
  
She stopped him by putting a hand on his lips. “Stop. I can prove it. I can prove that I loved you when I was still human.”  
  
She got up off the leather sofa and sped up to her room. She returned downstairs with a stack of her diaries, each marked with a number of tabs to flag the entries she thought were the most relevant. She handed them to Caroline.  
  
“Why are you giving me these?” the blonde asked.  
  
“Because you’re going to read the entries I’ve tabbed out loud for all of us to hear.”  
  
“What?”   
  
She crossed her arms and gave Caroline her sternest stubborn-face look. “Go on. Start at the earliest entry and keep going until you get to the night before I died. All of that was written before I turned. I have more in the diary I started after I turned, but I don’t think either of you would believe anything I wrote in that one.”  
  
“I’m not going to read your diaries out loud!” Caroline refused, her eyes wide.  
  
Scowling, Elena took the journals back. “Fine. I will.”  
  
She set two of the three diaries down on the cocktail table, and opened the one she still had in her hands to the first entry. She read through nearly three years of entries detailing a growing attachment and slowly blossoming love. From their first meeting to the trials of the tomb vampires, to Katherine and Klaus, the sacrifice and the werewolf bite. Her diaries recounted her increasing admiration and affection for Damon through the summer that Stefan was gone, and her growing feelings for the elder Salvatore that insisted on intruding into her mind even though she tried to fight them.   
  
The entries got more and more specific culminating in the one about the kiss they’d shared in Denver, and how that was when she’d known for sure that she couldn’t deny what she was feeling any longer. She wrote that she hated to admit it, because she still loved Stefan, but she didn’t trust him anymore, and she didn’t think she could be with him the way that she used to be. Damon had been her rock, and he’d proven himself over and over. She owed it to him to give him a chance to show her what they could be to each other.  
  
But the next entry had been about Caroline insisting that she should ask Stefan to the Decade Dance when she really had wanted to go with Damon, and how she felt like the _Bachelorette_ trying different men on for size just to see which one “fit.” She acknowledged that she’d made a mistake in choosing Stefan for the dance, and wrote that she should have followed her heart.   
  
Then she wrote about how wrong it had felt to leave Damon alone with Ric while Ric was dying, and how Stefan had insisted that Damon could handle it. She wrote that that wasn’t the point. Damon was alone with his best friend, and he was expected to sit and watch his friend die, and once again no one was there for Damon. The lack of sympathy for Damon cut her, especially from Stefan, and she wrote about how disappointed she was in him for being so callous towards Damon’s feelings, and how she had wanted to stay with Damon, but felt like she had to go with Stefan.  
  
The last two entries in her diary had been the two days before she died. Both spoke of her growing realization that she had deep feelings for Damon, and that she wanted to be with him, but it always came back to Stefan, and how much she loved both and didn’t want to lose either of them. In the last entry, she admitted that she had to choose Stefan because she knew Damon would stay even if she didn’t choose him. He’d always stayed and had been there for her, and he had promised to never leave her. Stefan had made no such promise. If she chose Damon, she would certainly lose Stefan because, unlike his brother, she knew Stefan would not be able to stand to watch her with Damon. So she felt that she had no choice. She loved both, and she didn’t want to choose, but she felt that she had to choose Stefan so she wouldn’t lose one of them.   
  
That had been the last entry because she had no entry for the night she died. She closed the diary and looked at the faces of her make-shift family. Stefan looked heartbroken while Caroline looked stunned. Matt, oddly, didn’t seem surprised at all. Neither did Jeremy, but Damon looked like he was swinging between anger and tears. She turned to him because she felt that he was the one who needed to hear what she had to say next the most.  
  
“There you have it. I loved you, but I let Caroline tell me that I should take Stefan to the dance. I let her make me feel guilty for not wanting to choose him. I shouldn’t have. I was turning my back on my heart, and even worse, I was choosing Stefan over you because I knew you’d never leave me. I was depending on your loyalty to me to keep you with me even after I chose your brother. I was using your feelings for me to manipulate you, just like I’d been doing for months. The night I died, I was still a coward and chose Stefan again, leaving you to face Ric and die alone. I was awful and hurtful, and I have no idea how you ever forgave me.”  
  
“You died. After that, everything else was insignificant,” Damon said, his face pained. “But Elena… you **_would_** have lost me. When Stefan and I were driving to get rid of Klaus’s body, we each promised that the one you didn’t choose would leave so the two of you could be happy. I would have honored that promise.”  
  
She gasped, her eyes opening wide, and a stab of pain lanced through her, but then she grew angry and rounded on Stefan because she knew Damon would never have made such a promise freely.  
  
“You made him, didn’t you? You made him promise to leave if I chose you,” she accused.  
  
“He didn’t make me promise,” Damon defended. “Granted, he did promise first that if you chose me, he’d leave, and I felt like I needed to return the favor so I promised, too.”  
  
She turned to Damon, heartbroken. “Why? After everything I’d said about not wanting to lose either of you, why would you promise to leave me?” She started to cry, unable to help herself because what he’d just admitted had shattered her assumptions and rendered them false. “Why would you leave me?”  
  
She couldn’t fathom it. After all that time relying on Damon’s loyalty to keep him with her, only to find out that he would have honored a promise he’d made to his brother over the one he’d made to her.  
  
_‘Well, of course he would. He honored the one he’d made with Stefan to tell me to go away. And Stefan knew he’d do it because he’d done it before. Damon loves Stefan, and he doesn’t want him to be hurt. So he’ll hurt himself instead. It’s Stefan who abused Damon’s loyalty and used it against him.’  
_  
“Because Damon knew Stefan was your soul mate, Elena. He knew Stefan was your epic love, and he’d only be in the way,” Caroline said.  



	3. Chapter 3

Caroline’s words had the opposite effect of what she was sure the blonde was hoping to get. Instead of her suddenly remembering how much she loved Stefan over Damon because of their apparent “epic” love, she remembered something else, something she’d been harboring deep inside her since the morning Damon had saved her on the Wickery Bridge. It had been a horrifying truth that her soul had shrunk from at first, but now she dragged it out into the harsh light and looked at it again.   
  
The reality was even more ugly and horrible in the light, but she couldn’t deny it, and she felt something break inside her. It tore through her with a bolt of agony, but it also set her free. Anger flared and burned white hot, clouding her vision for a moment before she opened her mouth and let the truth come blasting out.  
  
“My soul mate, Caroline? **_He let me drown!_** ”  
  
The accusation hung heavy in the air, and all of them looked at her in mute horror. Then Stefan hung his head and shook it.   
  
“I knew you would blame me for your being a vampire, even though I was respecting your wishes…” he whispered brokenly.   
  
“No,” she snapped, making them all look at her in surprise. “You don’t get it. I was ready to die for Matt. I **_wanted_** you to save him, **_if_** you’d had to choose between us. But what I didn’t understand then, but I do now, was that you **_didn’t have to make that choice_**. You could have saved us **_both!_** ”  
  
Matt gasped and Jeremy looked furious as Caroline shook her head in denial and looked at Stefan, who was still hanging his head. She cast a glance at Damon, and the expression on his face told her that he’d known it all along. That only made her angrier.  
  
“I figured it out, see?” she explained, spitting the words out through bared teeth. Her fangs were partially down as well. “On the day Damon saved me by throwing us both off the Wickery Bridge. I didn’t understand before I became a vampire. I didn’t realize how fast and how strong we are. That day when he saved me, I felt how powerful he was, and how fast he could swim, and how he didn’t have to breathe. That night… Stefan could have saved both of us. He could’ve ripped off my door, then Matt’s, and taken both of us to the surface. He didn’t have to make the choice that I thought he did. He should have been strong enough and fast enough to get us both out.”  
  
No one was speaking, and she was on a roll, so she kept going, purging herself of all the anger and betrayal she’d been holding in.  
  
“And you know what else I figured out? That morning after Damon saved me, he was trying to tell me that the “rough patch” we were going through wasn’t what I thought it was, and that you were doing this all for me. He was trying to push me back towards you,” she admitted, glaring at Stefan who looked up at her, surprised, then dropped his eyes again.  
  
She put her hands on her hips and loomed over Caroline and Stefan, seething.  
  
“So while the two of you are trying to tell me Damon is selfish and narcissistic and bad for me, I know how much he isn’t. All this time you’ve badmouthed him, and every time it’s turned out that what I was told wasn’t the whole story. Damon sacrifices his needs and happiness all the time, he puts others over himself all the time. Now I find out that you made him make a promise that would have forced him to break one he’d made to me. He was willing to give me up for you, because he loves you. He was willing to send me away from him, even though I know how much he loves me, because he thought what we had wasn’t real. That is love! This? This trying to convince me that it’s not real, these childish temper tantrums because you didn’t get what you wanted? That’s not love, that’s obsession, and I’m done with it. My relationship with Damon is **_none of your business,_** and you forfeited any right to dictate to me what I should or should not be doing with my life the moment you took it upon yourself to let me **_die!_** ”  
  
“Is it true?” Caroline asked Stefan in a small voice, her hand clutching the neckline of her shirt. Her eyes begged him to deny it, but Elena knew that he couldn’t.  
  
“That night…” Stefan began, his hands wringing. “Elena was there in the truck, and she was pointing at Matt…”  
  
“But if you could’ve saved both of us, why didn’t you?” Matt questioned, betrayal all over his face. He’d been carrying the guilt of living while Elena had died for all this time, only to discover that it had been for nothing.  
  
Stefan looked tortured, as if the truth was even more horrible than Elena had originally thought, and she braced herself because what was coming was going to be ugly no matter what he said.  
  
“I knew Ric was hunting Klaus,” Stefan confessed in a harsh whisper. “I knew he would find him where Damon had stored him. I knew he would go after Damon. I knew Damon would be at a disadvantage because he wouldn’t want to kill Ric because Ric had been his best friend. When Rebekah forced Matt’s truck off the bridge, I saw an opportunity…”  
  
He looked up, tears streaking down his face, his expression begging her to understand.   
  
“I’ve been to medical school. I know CPR. Drowning victims are some of the most likely to revive if CPR is administered quickly enough. I was back for you within a minute of your drowning, and giving you mouth-to-mouth in less than two. You **_should_** have revived. You didn’t revive…”  
  
“You let her die to save me,” Damon’s agonized voice gasped.  
  
Too fast for Elena to see, Damon surged to his feet and shoved her behind him, picking up the cocktail table and throwing it aside. It smashed against the wall and shattered into several pieces.   
  
**_“You let her die to save me!!”_** he howled.   
  
To her horror, Damon grabbed Stefan and lifted him up, shaking him like a rag doll.  
  
“How many times do I have to tell you! **_STOP SAVING ME!!_** ”  
  
**_“Damon!”_** she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist and trying to pull him away from his brother even as Caroline grabbed Stefan and tried to wrest him out of Damon’s grasp.  
  
The brothers broke apart, Stefan falling to the couch as Caroline successfully managed to yank him away from Damon. The release caused Damon to fall backwards as well, on top of Elena, and their bodies hit the sofa behind them, scraping it across the hardwood floor. Elena winced when she heard the telltale rip on the wood, but it was the least of her worries because Damon was struggling against her, trying to break free. She almost lost the battle when Jeremy jumped on him and helped her keep him down.  
  
“I think you’d better get him out of here Caroline, because I am seconds away from staking him for what he did to my sister, and Bonnie isn’t here to stop me,” Jeremy warned.  
  
She didn’t hear Caroline’s response, but she did hear the two of them leave the house quickly, Stefan’s sobs echoing in her ears. She couldn’t say anything because she was still fighting with Damon, holding his upper half while Jeremy pinned down his legs.  
  
“Do we have any vervain?” she heard Matt ask.  
  
“In Damon’s trunk! The duffel in the spare tire well,” Jeremy replied.  
  
“I need the keys!”  
  
Which, of course, would be in Damon’s pocket. She twisted around, trying to get him under her to where she could free one hand to get the keys, all the while crying and begging him to stop fighting.  
  
“Damon! Damon, please! Please Damon!”  
  
Her tears fell off her face onto his cheek, and the drops seemed to have an immediate effect. He stilled and went limp, almost catatonic actually… like he’d been on the night when they’d opened the tomb and discovered that Katherine hadn’t been in there.   
  
She breathed a sigh of relief as she collapsed on top of him, still weeping and fisting his jacket in her hands. Jeremy reluctantly eased up his grip and backed away slowly, but it was obvious that he was ready to pin Damon again if he had to.  
  
“Damon?” she whispered, sniffling.  
  
“I won’t fight anymore. You don’t have to vervain me,” came his hollow reply.  
  
She rested her cheek against his even as they were both still sprawled on the floor and moved to draw him into an embrace until she was spooning him.  
  
“Thank you,” she murmured against the shell of his ear.  
  
“You guys okay?” she heard Matt ask.  
  
“Yeah, I think so,” she answered, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing.  
  
“Okay. Okay, that’s good.”  
  
“Can you take me over to Bonnie’s?” she heard Jeremy ask Matt.  
  
“Yeah, sure.”  
  
Panic surged through her and she lifted her head. “Jer, what are you going to tell her?”  
  
“Ric wants to see if I can see Sheila. If I can’t, I won’t tell her anything about Shane, but I will tell her… about what we learned tonight,” her brother answered, looking down at her and Damon with a mix of sadness and pity on his face.  
  
She swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”  
  
“I think she should know. Besides, it looks like the two of you are going to need some alone time. I’ll stay at Matt’s tonight.”  
  
Jeremy looked askance at Matt who nodded. “Sure, bro. No problem.”  
  
“You gonna be okay if we leave?” Jeremy asked.  
  
She tightened her grip on Damon who was being uncharacteristically placid and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, Jer.”  
  
They both gave her nods and beat a hasty retreat. She gave the wrecked living room a glance, then rested her head back down on Damon’s.  
  
“They’re gone,” she said, stating the obvious.  
  
“I know.”  
  
His voice was completely devoid of any hubris or affectation, as if he had no energy for masks or illusion. Her hand came up, and she stroked his hair the way a mother would comfort a child. She heard him sigh and sniff, but she didn’t dare look at his face to see his tears. She loved him, and he loved her, and she knew there would come a time when she would be allowed to see him cry, but tonight wasn’t that time. She held him, pretending to be oblivious to his silent tears until she decided to try to distract him from his self-flagellation.   
  
“You lied to me,” she told him.  
  
She felt him go still, then he asked in a defeated voice, “When?”  
  
“When I asked you if you would’ve saved me, even if it meant Matt would have drowned, you said you would have.”  
  
“That’s no lie. It was the absolute truth,” he answered.  
  
“But you didn’t tell me that there wasn’t a choice. I accused you of being willing to let Matt die, but you would have saved both of us.”  
  
She felt him trying to get up and this time she let him. She pulled back as he sat up, turning to face her. His eyes were red, but that was the only sign of his weeping. She, however, knew her face had to be a wrecked, mascara-streaked mess. He gave her one of his tender looks as he wiped her cheek with his thumb and smiled softly, his eyes growing misty and full of love.  
  
“I would have let Donovan die. In a heartbeat, I would have let him die. If the choice had been you or him, I would have chosen you without hesitation,” he reaffirmed.  
  
She took his hand and cupped his palm against her cheek, letting him cradle her face.  
  
“But that’s what I’m trying to say. There wasn’t any need to choose between us because Stefan should have been more than capable of saving us both. **_You_** would have saved us both. You didn’t tell me that. Once again, you didn’t want someone to see the good in you. You didn’t want **_me_** to see the good in you.”  
  
He scowled and looked away, letting his hand slip out of hers and slump to the floor. “Maybe I felt I shouldn’t have to. Maybe I was tired of you thinking the worst of me even after all I’ve done to prove otherwise. Maybe it hurt me to know that you believed that I would have let the quarterback drown if I didn’t have to.”  
  
She gasped, but realized that he was right, and the knowledge shamed her. “You’re right. I did. I fell back on my old patterns, and I broke my own promise to myself to stop automatically thinking badly of you. I’m sorry for that. But you don’t make it easy, and I was a new vampire. I didn’t understand how fast and strong I would be.”  
  
“You figured it out though, didn’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I did.”  
  
“There you go then.” He said it as if her false assumptions had meant nothing.  
  
“But Damon…”  
  
“But nothing. You came after me with your convictions and your accusations, and you did what you always do, what everyone always does. It’s not a problem. I’m used to it,” he assured her with a shrug.  
  
“But you shouldn’t be. It’s not right, and I’m going to stop doing it.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
And just like that, she was forgiven. For everything. Because that’s how Damon was. Damon forgave… and forgave… and forgave, and forgave. Even when the person he was forgiving didn’t deserve it. She reached for him and kissed him tenderly. He returned it, but it was chaste. She had no doubt that they would make love soon, but right now it was all about comfort and reassurance.  
  
“Lets go upstairs. I’m a mess from crying, and I need to wash my face,” she told him.  
  
He gave her another of his sweet smiles that made her feel cherished and adored, and stroked her hair.  
  
“Why don’t you go take a shower and get ready for bed and I’ll…” He looked at the living room and frowned. “I’ll clean up this mess.”  
  
“You don’t have to. We can leave it until tomorrow.”  
  
“Christmas?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  
  
She blinked. She’d forgotten again.  
  
“I forgot about that,” she admitted.  
  
“I guess I’m not getting a present,” he teased.  
  
She snorted and flipped her hair back, preening a bit. “That depends on what you consider wrapping paper.”  
  
His eyes widened for a moment, then he laughed softly, kissing her with a little more passion than before. “Minx.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
He gave her a little push. “Go on. Go get cleaned up. I’ll be along in a little while.”  
  
She stood and gave him what she hoped was her best come-hither look. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”  
  
He chuckled and shook his head. “You know nothing of waiting.”  
  
She knew he meant it as a joke, but her smile faded. “I know.”  
  
He realized his faux pas and began to apologize, but she stopped him. “No. It’s the truth. You’ve been waiting for years for someone to love you. You’ve probably been waiting your whole life.”  
  
She bent down and kissed him gently with all the love she could.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“Elena…”  
  
She pulled back, brushing his cheek with her fingers. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done down here.”  
  
She gave him one more smile, then turned away and headed for the stairs. She knew he would follow her shortly, so she went to her bedroom and began undressing. She hung Damon’s old leather jacket on a hook on the back of her door, and dropped the rest of her clothes in the hamper, then she put on her robe and headed for the shower.  
  
Reality started setting in somewhere between shampoo and conditioner, and she had to stop rinsing for a moment as the pain made her dizzy and more tears threatened to fall. Stefan had let her drown in order to save Damon. He’d done so deliberately in the hope that he would be able to revive her after she was dead. Only she hadn’t revived. If Meredith hadn’t used Damon’s blood to heal her of the brain hemorrhage, she would have truly died that night, and Stefan would have been completely responsible for her death.   
  
But she would have died for Damon, and she was okay with that. He was definitely someone she would be willing to die for, but she also knew that Damon would never accept that. He was probably downstairs torturing himself with survivor’s guilt, just as she had tortured herself for living when her parents had died.  
  
_‘What a pair we are. I kept saying that I didn’t want to be him, but I’ve been him for years. We’re a matched set,’_ she thought dourly.   
  
Well the time for guilt was over. They **_had_** survived, and now they had to pick up the pieces. A new big bad was coming, she could feel it, and they needed to be ready to face whatever it threw at them. She needed to heal what was between her and Damon, then heal what was between her and Stefan, and then work on helping the brothers heal what was between them, because she had no doubt that Damon was on the edge of losing it completely. Stefan had loved his brother enough to risk her death in order to save him, but judging by Damon’s reaction, he would rather have died.   
  
Given that, and how much of a douche Stefan had been the last few days, it was going to take a lot of patience and cajoling before the two were even close to being okay with each other, but that was for another night. Tonight was about Damon, so she shoved all the stuff about Stefan in a mental box marked “To Deal With Later” and finished her shower.  
  
She chose the same dark blue and plaid PJs she’d been wearing on the night Damon had first confessed his love, then made her forget, and scrounged a battered hair bow from her drawer. It wasn’t a gift bow, but she was sure Damon would get the message. She was just settling onto her bed to wait for him when she heard him come up the stairs, and she held the breath she didn’t need any more as she traced his footsteps.  
  
“Is it okay if I take a shower?” his voice asked from the top of the stairs.   
  
She paused for a moment because she hadn’t been expecting his question, then replied, “Of course. Sure.”  
  
“Thanks. I’m all road trippy and gross, and your floor is filthy. I’m gonna have to do something about that.”  
  
She smiled to herself, but held in her laugh. “Okay. Feel free to use my shampoo,” she offered.  
  
She heard him snort. “Because every man wants to smell like strawberries. Thanks, but no thanks. I keep a duffel with toiletries and a change of clothes in my car. Y’know, just in case I have to run from a human sacrifice practicing mass murderer on short notice.”  
  
“Damon Salvatore. Always prepared,” she teased.  
  
“I would have been an Eagle Scout. I got all my badges, but I ate the scout leader, and they sort of frown on that.”  
  
She laughed out loud and put her palm to her face. “Go take a shower, Damon.”  
  
“Yes, Miss Gilbert,” he sing-songed as his reply.  
  
She was still giggling when she heard him get into her shower and turn on the water. What was she going to do with him? This insufferable, unpredictable, infuriating, wonderful man. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to get her thoughts and emotions in order before he joined her in her room.  
  
He came in about fifteen minutes later, fully dressed in a dark gray Henley and a pair of worn jeans. His hair was still wet so he’d draped a towel around his neck to catch the dripping water. The scent of his shampoo and body wash came in with him, something earthy and masculine, and he smelled amazing. She pressed her back against her headboard as she gave him what she hoped was a sultry look inviting him into her bed.  
  
She could almost see her reflection in his eyes, and she watched the emotions flit across his face as he took her in. She knew what he was seeing: her there in the tank top and plaid shorts, hair bow in her still damp hair, on her bed, waiting for him. His expression went from surprise to lust to love and then to quiet gratitude in the span of ten seconds. She smiled as he smiled back, his eyes warm and full of something she couldn’t quite place as he stood by the side of her bed and stroked her leg with his fingertips.  
  
“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but… can I just hold you? I hate to say this, but I’m not really in the mood,” he admitted, giving her one of his soulful-eyes looks.  
  
His request surprised her, because she never thought she’d see the day when Damon Salvatore wasn’t interested in sex, but she rallied quickly.   
  
“Awww, the big, scary vampire wants to cuddle,” she kidded, smiling so he would know that she wasn’t mocking him.  
  
He shrugged and tickled the back of her knee. “Well, it’s either that or get shit-faced drunk and go kill someone.”  
  
“I vote for cuddling.”  
  
He smirked, but then his smug expression faded to be replaced by pure anguish and guilt. She quickly kicked back the covers, and opened her arms.  
  
“Come here, baby. Let me make it all better,” she said, trying to make him smile at her attempt to be sexy and comforting at the same time.  
  
He shook his head even as he obeyed, sliding into the bed and tucking his head under her chin as she hugged him.  
  
“That’s not possible,” he choked, wrapping an arm around her waist.  
  
“Shhh. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’re going to be okay,” she soothed, stroking his hair   
  
“I don’t know how,” his confessed, his voice ragged.  
  
Tears began to fall from her tightly shut eyes, but she refused to give in to them. “We survive. We always survive.”  
  
“You didn’t. He let you die for me.” It was almost a sob.  
  
“But I didn’t die. I’m still here, and it’s going to be okay.”  
  
“No, it’s not. It’ll **_never_** be okay.”   
  
No, it wouldn’t, but the wound would scab over and heal, even though the scar would be between the brothers for centuries. “Then we learn to live with it because there’s nothing else we can do about it. We can’t change what happened.”  
  
“But the cure…”  
  
“I don’t want it. I don’t want it, Damon. I can drink from blood bags now, thanks to you. If I don’t have to hurt people to live, I can do this. I can be a vampire,” she said, realizing that it was true.  
  
“It’s my fault you couldn’t drink from blood bags in the first place.”  
  
“Don’t go there. You didn’t know, and you fixed it as soon as you did. Stop blaming yourself for things you had no idea you were doing.”   
  
“What are we going to do about the sire bond?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t know, but we’ll work it out. There’s nothing we can overcome if we face it together, Damon, you know that. We’ll find a way. We always do.”  
  
She heard him chuckle even as he sniffed. “My eternal optimist.”  
  
“My eternal pessimist,” she teased, stroking his cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”  
  
He lifted his head and looked at her with his blue, blue eyes so open and vulnerable in a way she knew almost no one had ever seen. “Love me?”  
  
She gave him her sweetest, most tender smile. “Forever.”  
  
He shook his head. “Don’t promise me forever. Not even a vampire can promise that. Promise me tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that…”  
  
“And the day after that…” she repeated, then she glanced at her clock to see that it was now 12:02 a.m. “Merry Christmas, Damon.”  
  
“Are you my present?”  
  
“For as long as you’ll have me.”  
  
He grinned. “That’ll be a few centuries at least.”  
  
She bent down to kiss him. “I love you.”  
  
He sighed into her mouth and reached up to caress her face. “I love you, too. So, so, so much.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
He kissed her again, sweet and gentle, then laid his head back down on her shoulder.   
  
“Thank you,” he whispered.  
  
She pulled him closer, tucking him against her and twining her leg with his. “You’re welcome.”  
  
They’d make love soon, she was sure of it; probably by morning, but for now she was content to hold him, reveling in his trust of her that he would allow her to see him so vulnerable and needy. She would strive to be worthy of his trust, as she knew he would strive to be worthy of hers.   
  
His hand came up to rest on her chest and she wrapped her fingers around it, holding his palm over her heart. He sighed again and she felt him snuggle closer, his hair tickling the underside of her chin, but she bore it until he shifted and the tickling stopped. They lay there, quiet but content, each in their own head, but committed to facing what was to come together.   
  
Damon was the first to fall asleep, and it was a bit of a struggle to turn off the light without disturbing him, but she managed. Once the room was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the blinking lights from the neighbors’ Christmas display, her own exhaustion caught up with her. She’d barely slept the last two days, and that evening had been an emotional bomb that had left her drained and numb. Damon’s soft snores and scent were a sleep-inducing lure that she could not resist, and she followed him into the land of dreams shortly thereafter.  
  
FIN  
  



End file.
